


snowed in

by determination



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:12:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/determination/pseuds/determination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>my friend gave me the prompt of grillby and gaster getting snowed in, so i decided to give that idea a little holiday theme. this was also an excuse to write flustered gaster because i haven’t done that yet? which is silly because flustered gaster is adorable. this is sort of like a… pre-accident, established relationship type thing, idk i didn’t put too much thought into when it takes place haha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	snowed in

There’s no weather in the underground, but every once in a while, Snowdin gets hit with a heavy snow storm. Gaster had explained the science behind the matter to Grillby on multiple occasions, but even now, with thick snowflakes cascading through the air, the bartender still can’t wrap his flame around the idea.

Despite this, he’s always enjoyed the way the white powder seems to twinkle in the light of his flame, melting before it can even touch him. Sometimes, he turns his temperature down just low enough for the flakes to stick to him, and they flutter off in small piles each time he flickers. It’s even better at this time of year, with the holiday just around the corner.

“Someone likes the snow, I see,” Gaster’s voice comes from beside Grillby, amusement evident in its tone. Grillby shrugs, more snow scattering from his shoulder with the movement. “It sure is coming down, isn’t it?”

“Yes…” Grillby murmurs. He feels Gaster’s hand reach for his own, and within seconds, he’s upped his temperature to a more tolerable level, knowing the scientist will appreciate the extra warmth. The remaining snow that had piled on him instantly melts. “You should probably get going if you want to make it home before the accumulations become too much." 

"It’ll be fine,” Gaster chuckles, giving Grillby’s hand a squeeze. “It will be a while before the snowfall is enough to create a serious travel hazard.” He smirks as he adds, “Besides, I hear the bartender of this pub makes superb coffee.”

“An exaggeration, I’m sure,” Grillby sizzles in response, burning faintly blue as he tugs his hand free of Gaster’s grasp in order to unlock the door to the pub. 

“Not at all, I assure you,” the scientist chuckles once more, following as Grillby leads the way in. 

He sits down at the bar and watches as Grillby disappears into the back, returning moments later with a cup of hot coffee. One sip has a grin plastered on Gaster’s face. “See?” he raises the cup for emphasis, “ _Superb_ coffee.” Grillby just crackles, a hint of blue lingering at his tip. 

Gaster takes another sip, looking around the pub with fascination. “You know,” he muses, “this place is usually so busy. After closing time, it always feels so empty when we’re the only ones here.”

“… Is that bad?” The bartender takes the seat next to him, propping an elbow on the counter and fixing him with a look. Gaster smiles and shakes his head.

“The opposite,” he says, sipping his coffee. “I wish we had more opportunities to spend time like this, just the two of us.”

Grillby crackles again. “Well, it’s not like I would do this for any of my other customers,” he mumbles, averting his gaze. “You’re… special, after all.”

He doesn’t have to look up to see the twinkle in Gaster’s eyes. “Special, huh…?” After a pause, he leans over and plants a brief kiss on Grillby’s cheek, earning a sizzle of indignation. “As a scientist, I’m flattered. There are at least a couple thousand monsters in the underground, yet I’m the one who gets to sit here beside you after hours, drinking your coffee… I do indeed feel special.”

Smoke begins to billow up from Grillby’s flame. “… You talk too much,” he mutters. Gaster simply chuckles, amused.

They sit in silence for a short while, content with each other’s presence. Grillby quietly watches Gaster as he sips his drink, a fond look on his usually expressionless face.

“It’s getting late,” the bartender finally says. “Shouldn’t you get going?” Despite the question, his tone of voice is reluctant. 

“I’m in no rush,” Gaster replies with a smile.

“But it’s almost Gyftmas. You should be at home, spending time with your sons-” Gaster laughs lightly, interrupting him and earning a put-out flicker from the bartender. 

“My sons? They have complained about seeing too much of me,” he says in good humor. “King Asgore allowed me a holiday vacation, so I’ve spent the last few days with them. Sans was very particular that I should _go out and get some fresh air._ " 

Grillby hesitates. "They’re a sweet pair. You should bring them over on Gyftmas.” Gaster gives him a questioning look. “To my house, I mean. I’d love to cook dinner for the three of you.”

“You’d _love_ to?” The scientist is positively thrilled. “Then how can I say no? Getting to spend the holiday with my favorite monsters would be the best gift of all.”

“… Favorite?” Grillby repeats, slightly taken aback. “I understand your sons, but… Me?”

“But of course,” Gaster grins. “No one else lights up my life quite like you do, dear.”

Grillby lets out a puff of smoke. “It’s hard to tell whether or not you’re jesting, you know.”

“I assure you, I am dead serious.” The grin is replaced with another, more tender expression.

“Then perhaps…” Grillby finds himself leaning forward in anticipation. “… You would be willing to prove how serious you are…?”

Gaster give him a crooked smile. “Certainly." 

Silence falls over them again as Gaster kisses him. 

After a prolonged moment, he pulls back, finishes off the coffee, and stands, smugly eyeing the light-headed Grillby. "Show me out?" 

Grillby manages a nod and gets up, dazedly following as Gaster heads for the door. With his hand on the doorknob, though, something occurs to Grillby. 

"Wait,” he commands. Gaster stops, confused. “The windows.” The scientist gives him a confused look. 

“What about them?” he asks. Grillby starts to speak again, but he doesn’t have a chance to get anything out before Gaster makes a noise of realization. “Y-you can’t see out of them!" 

"It seems…” Grillby pulls the door open a very small crack. He’s greeted by a wall of white, that looms dangerously close to spilling inside the pub if he didn’t shut the door fast enough. “It seems the snow accumulated faster than we anticipated.”

“That’s not possible,” Gaster mutters, disbelief evident on his face. “I haven’t even been here that long-” He cuts himself off, seeming to calculate something in his head. “No, no, if the conditions were right, then this amount of snowfall makes perfect sense. How careless of me to miss the signs…" 

"We couldn’t have known-” Grillby starts again, but Gaster is interrupting once more before he can finish.

“Wait, does that mean we’re snowed in??” he exclaims. Grillby holds back a remark about the unintentional pun. For the first time in a long while, Gaster looks nervous. “A-as in… I won’t… I mean, I can’t… I’ll have to stay overnight…?" 

Grillby flickers uncertainly. "I am afraid travel in these conditions would be unwise. That is to say, if you are not opposed to the idea-”

“No!” Gaster blurts. Grillby stops mid-sentence, bewildered. In the next instant, the scientist seems to realize his mistake and hastily amends, “I mean- I didn’t mean that- I-I just! This, it’s so, you know, out of the blue, I w-wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“Intrude?” Grillby can’t help but chuckle. “Nonsense. I would not have you traveling home in a blizzard, Gaster. You should at least wait until tomorrow morning, when the snow has tapered off and I can help you clear a path." 

"But-” Gaster falters, squirming a bit. “I just…”

Something occurs to Grillby. “… Gaster, are you… flustered? Does the idea of staying here overnight make you nervous…?”

Gaster opens and closes his mouth a few times. Green blush floods his cheekbones, and he buries his face in his hands. “Well this is embarrassing.” His voice is muffled.

Seeing Gaster like this is a first for Grillby. He’s always so composed, nothing getting under his (figurative) skin, that Grillby had just assumed he’d never lose his cool. 

“… Cute…” Grillby murmurs.

“Wh-what??” Gaster moves his hands to give the bartender a baffled look, still blushing rather vividly. “You can’t be serious-”

Grillby strides over, cups Gaster’s face in his hands, and kisses him silent. The scientist’s protests melt into a disgruntled yet needy sigh. 

“Cute,” Grillby repeats. Gaster blushes a darker green than before. 

“Not at all,” he mumbles, averting his gaze.

“Very cute.” Grillby flickers in amusement.

“Stop teasing me,” Gaster whines, stiffening as Grillby wraps his arms around him, tugging him closer. 

“The cutest.” The bartender hopes the smile he’d be wearing if he had a mouth is obvious to the skeleton. “I’m not teasing.”

Gaster huffs, attempting to pull away. He gives up after only a brief moment, though, putting his weight against Grillby as he buries his face against the bartender’s neck. “I’m a mess,” Gaster says after a pause, voice quiet and stifled. 

“… A cute mess.” Grillby chuckles as Gaster groans.

“You’re driving me crazy, y'know that, Grillby?” The bartender hums in response, turning his temperature up just a notch. 

It’s odd, to have switched roles so suddenly. But, regardless, Grillby thinks he could definitely get used to this.

Gaster clings to him as they figure out what to do. Grillby manages to pull free for long enough to put some Gyftmas music on the jukebox so they won’t be in total silence. 

“Where will we sleep?” Gaster asks. “And what about blankets? Pillows? I can’t even brush my teeth-”

“Relax, will you?” Grillby chuckles once more. “I think I should have a few things in one of the storage closets. I’ll go take a look. In the meantime, you should call your sons and let them know what’s going on.”

“Ah, right, I should…” Gaster lets go of Grillby’s arm to fumble with his coat pockets until he retrieves his cellphone from one of them. 

Grillby heads to the storage room and looks around. He finds a few blankets and pillows, which he remembers leaving there a while ago (though for what reason, he can’t recall).

As he’s rummaging through a few boxes, he feels his own phone vibrate in his pocket. 

“You’re stuck at the pub, aren’t you?” Fuku says the instant he answers the call.

Grillby laughs lightly. “How did you know?”

“I figured,” she sighs. “You told me you’d be late because you were meeting that guy again. Since you’re not home yet, and, y'know, the snow is taller than the door, it was easy to put two and two together." 

"Yes, I’m sorry about this,” the bartender chuckles again. “You’ve got the leftover food from dinner, though, so you’ll be fine. And you can call me if you need something.”

“Why would I do that? You’re spending time with the your _special guy_.” Her word choice sparks a faint blue at the tip of Grillby’s flame. 

“Fuku,” he fizzles, “you know I was only saying that because he’s the royal scientist-”

“Sure, sure. And your boyfriend.” He can picture her dismissively waving a green hand at him. “Dad, you’re a horrible liar. Well, anyway, sleep well tonight. If you actually plan on it, that is.”

“Fuku!” Grillby sputters, blue spreading down his face.

His daughter laughs. “I’m kidding, dad. Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Likewise,” Grillby deflates a little. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

He stares at his phone screen for a few moments after they hang up. Then he lets out a puff of smoke, pockets the device, and resumes his search.

Fuku can be a real handful. But, he supposes, she wasn’t wrong about Gaster being special to Grillby. He blazes a little more brightly; if he had a mouth, he would have smiled.

Unsurprisingly, there’s not much else to look through, so he returns just as Gaster finishes his call. “Sans said Papyrus is already asleep. They should be fine until I get home tomorrow,” Gaster says, slipping his phone back into his coat pocket. “He sounded… a little relieved..?” He lets out a strained laugh. “I suppose I must have been too overbearing these last few days." 

"Then it’s good they’re getting a break, isn’t it?” Grillby hands Gaster the blankets and a pillow. 

“Y-yes…” Gaster’s shoulders sag. “You’re probably right…”

“I’m sure they’ll have changed their minds by tomorrow. You’re a good father. They’ll miss you while you’re not there.” Gaster gives him an appreciative smile, which falters when Grillby adds, “And besides. It means I get you all to myself tonight." 

"Wh-” Blush floods the skeleton’s face. “Cut it out already will you? Any more remarks like that and I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Grillby leans forward dangerously close. Gaster stiffens, blush darkening. “Kiss me?”

“I-if that’s that you want,” Gaster gets out after a moment’s hesitation. 

“How compliant,” Grillby chuckles. When Gaster leans forward a fraction of an inch, though, he pulls back and gestures to the cushioned seats lining the walls. “We can make beds on those.” Gaster gives him an exasperated look. 

The music is a nice backdrop, Grillby decides. Cheerful. Gives the pub a nice atmosphere. He stares up at the ceiling for a bit and thinks about how him and Gaster are sleeping in the same room.

“Grillby,” comes Gaster’s voice from the other makeshift bed. The bartender doesn’t reply right away. “ _Grillby_ …” It’s a whine now, and Grillby crackles in amusement.

“What is it, Gaster?”

A pause. Then, “It’s cold." 

Not really,” Grillby teases.

“Of course not, you’re made of fire,” Gaster grumbles. Grillby watches him shift to lay facing the cushion, like he’s throwing a small tantrum. 

This side of Gaster is too cute, he thinks.

“Gaster.” No response. Grillby’s not sure why he thinks this is a good idea, but he tries again anyway. “Gaster, if there is enough room, you are welcome to share this cushion with me." 

At that, Gaster’s head shoots up. ”… Do you mean that?“

"By all means,” Grillby nods, gesturing for him to come over. The skeleton hesitates for only a few seconds, and then Grillby is greeted by two blankets and one lanky body.

“I’m gonna fall off,” Gaster mutters, bracing a hand against the table behind him. “… This isn’t going to work.”

“It’ll be fine,” Grillby assures him. A pale blue paints his face as he wraps his arms around Gaster, tugging him closer and simultaneously turning up his temperature. Gaster lets out a noise of bliss and wastes no time in nuzzling even closer, sighing contentedly against Grillby’s neck. 

“That’s much better,” he says. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Grillby replies, flickering in a stutter in the same manner a heart would skip a beat.

They doze off like that, Gyftmas music playing quietly as a backdrop. Grillby is amazed he manages to sleep at all. 


End file.
